“It’s the cancan,” Nina said, out of breath. “Mother and I sneaked away from Daddy and Lee when we were in Paris and saw it.”
“Can anyone try it?” Houston asked, and soon eight women were tossing their skirts over their heads to the tune of Miss Emily’s playing.
“Rest!” Sarah Oakley called. “And I brought a bit of poetry to read to you.”
When Edan was a boy, he and his friends had shared a copy of what the prim Miss Oakley was now reading from: Fanny Hill.
The women giggled and laughed as they slapped Blair and Houston on the back repeatedly.
When Sarah finished, Houston stood. “Now, my dear, dear friends, I have the pièce de résistance upstairs. Shall we go?”
Several minutes passed before Edan could move. So much for a ladies’ tea party. With a jolt, he sat upright. What in the world could be upstairs? What could be more than what they’d already done? He knew that he’d as soon die as not find out what was going on.
As quickly as possible, he left the house, circled it, and saw light in the northeast corner sitting room. Ignoring thorns, he began to climb the rose trellis.
All that had happened before hadn’t prepared him for what he now saw. The room was totally dark except for a large candelabra blazing with light, set behind a translucent silk screen. And between the screen and the light was a well-muscled man, scantily clad, moving his body into poses to show off his muscles.
“I’ve had enough of this,” Miss Emily said and, with Nina on the other side, moved the screen away.
For a moment, the strongman looked bewildered, but the now-drunk women began clapping their hands and cheering, so he grinned and put more enthusiasm into his posing.
“Not nearly as big as my Kane,” Houston shouted.
“I’ll take him on,” the strongman shouted back. “I can lick anybody.”
“Not Kane,” Houston said stubbornly, which made the man work harder at showing his biceps.
Edan slipped down the rose trellis to the ground. Kane’d wanted Edan to protect the ladies. Who was to protect the men from the ladies?
* * *
On Saturday morning, Kane slammed his office door for the fifth time in one hour. “Of all the days for Houston to be sick,” he growled as he sat down. “You don’t think she’s gettin’ afraid of tomorrow’s weddin’, do you?” he asked Edan.
“More likely something she ate—or drank,” Edan answered. “I heard there were several young women of Chandler spending the day being ‘indisposed’.”
Kane didn’t look up from his papers. “Probably just restin’ for tomorrow.”
“What about you?” Edan asked. “Any nerves?”
“Not a one. Real simple matter. People do it every day.”
Edan leaned forward, took the paper Kane was looking at and turned it right side up.
“Thanks,” Kane mumbled.
Chapter 13
The day of the wedding was so beautiful that it seemed to have been specially created for that momentous occasion. Opal woke the Chandler household at five o’clock and began the careful packing of the two wedding dresses and veils.
Houston heard her mother downstairs but she lay in bed for several minutes before she rose. She’d slept little during the night, mostly tossing and turning. Her mind was too alive with thoughts of the approaching day to sleep. She thought of Kane and prayed that in the years to come he’d learn to love her.
When Opal came to wake her, she wa
s more than willing for the day to begin.
The three women were ready to leave for the Taggert house by ten o’clock. They travelled in Houston’s carriage, with Willie behind them driving a borrowed wagon, the bed covered with muslin, the dresses concealed.
Waiting for them at the house were a dozen young women, all members of The Sisterhood.